


like rain in a drought

by BeStillMySlashyHeart



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeStillMySlashyHeart/pseuds/BeStillMySlashyHeart
Summary: Sometimes, when it rains, the whole world smells like him.
Relationships: Max Evans/Liz Ortecho - referenced, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes - referenced
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	like rain in a drought

It started raining at some point while they were closing up. Liz didn’t pay it much mind other than to acknowledge that yes, water was in fact falling from the sky, and yes, they might need to put down rugs for people to dry off their shoes. Other than that, the weather outside didn’t much affect her work inside so she ignored it.

Which is probably why it caught her so off guard when she stepped out the back door after clocking out. It was a light rain, gentle even. The perfect spring shower, crisp and clean and refreshing.

Liz inhaled once and froze, her body locking up on her as her mind whirred.

It smelled like Max.

The world, _everything_ , smelled like Max. Liz pressed a hand to her chest as she held back a sudden sob. 

She couldn’t go out to Max’s house like this. Rosa loved the rain, always opened the doors and windows to listen to it fall. There was no way Liz could be in Max’s house right now.

Liz spun on her heel and hurried back inside, the door slamming shut behind her.

“Liz?” Her dad asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Liz didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know what she could say. “I’m fine, Papi,” she brushed him off. He didn’t look convinced but she didn’t stick around to try and change his mind. There were two sets of stairs in the back. One went up to the apartment she grew up in and the other went straight to the roof. 

Liz hurried up the latter.

The smell hit her again when she burst through the door onto the roof. It was like all of a sudden she could breathe again, despite the urge to sob her heart out, and she sucked in deep breath after deep breath. 

“You too, huh?” Liz jerked in surprise at the unexpected voice. It was dark up here, her dad having turned off the lights to the sign, and she could only just make out the shadowy form leaning against it. But she didn’t need to see him to recognize Alex’s voice.

“What are you doing up here?”

Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. I just sort of ended up here when it started raining.”

Liz shuffled over to join him. He had his left leg tucked up under his chin, his arms hanging loose around it. His face was turned upwards, his closed against the rain. “You hate the rain,” she reminded him. Because he did. By the time they graduated, Liz had lost count of how many times Alex had ranted against the weather. Most storms around here were short but heavy and Alex had a knack for getting caught out in them and ruining his clothes/hair/makeup/music, etc. 

Alex hummed but didn’t answer.

Liz tried to wait him out but when it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything she leaned up against the wall and mirrored his pose, her face turning up to catch the rain. “What did you mean, me too?”

Again, Alex didn’t answer. At least not right away. “You miss Max.” It wasn’t a question so Liz didn’t answer. “They smell like rain.” He inhaled slow and deep. “The whole damn world smells like him right now,” he murmured.

And Liz didn’t know what to say to that. Because she agreed, the world did smell like Max. But Alex wasn’t talking about Max and he never talked about Michael with her so Liz was at a loss. She glanced over at him just long enough to grab his hand and squeeze. By the time he looked at her, she was already back to catching raindrops on her face. 

Their joined hands hung loosely between them as they sat silently, the rain falling ever gently around them.


End file.
